El Al 318
by PsandQs
Summary: This takes place after episode 9.3. Ruth goes to Israel for peace talks but is put in grave danger. Can Harry and the team figure out what is going on in time to save her? Will Harry be able to put emotions aside and make the hard decisions?
1. Chapter 1

_Friday 20 August  
Ben Gurion International Airport, Tel Aviv_

The woman stands at the tall windows in Shakim Hall, staring thoughtfully at the Boeing 777 being loaded below her. She has shoulder-length dark hair, and the olive complexion of the Middle East. A man comes to stand next to her, short, dark and with wiry grey hair. They don't look at each other.  
"Everything is in place." It is the woman who speaks first.  
"Good. The peace talks will start in two weeks. We need to strike before then."  
The woman nods. "It will be done."  
Still without looking at his companion, the man stands for a beat longer.  
"God be with you," he finally says, softly, before turning and striding off briskly.  
The woman stays at the window, staring at the plane below her.

- 0 -

_Monday 23 August, early morning  
Thames House_

Harry steps through the sliding doors onto the Grid. His eyes turn to Ruth's desk, but she is not there. He tries to summon the energy to reprimand himself for once again seeking her out as soon as he arrives, but even that is beyond him. He sighs heavily, and trudges to his office, wondering when this numb, dead feeling will lift from his chest, and allow him to breathe fully once again.

As he slides into his chair, his eyes involuntarily flick to her station again, from where her dead screen seems to mock him. He rubs his hands over his face wearily. His inability not to look at her desk depresses him, especially as he knows she won't be there today, or for the next three weeks. And because he knows it is too much in this uneasy, awkward limbo they find themselves in of late. That he has, as she put it so eloquently, forfeited the chance. Harry stares at his empty desktop blankly. How had things between them become such a terrible mess? He experiences flashes of emotion, where he wants to shout and rail against everything – the too many funerals he's had to attend; the terrible decisions he's had to make; his inability to figure out this thing with Ruth. But in time they pass, leaving only the dead weight in his chest.

Perhaps her absence in the next three weeks will allow him to find the answer, find a way to work with her every day, knowing that he can never have more than that, without it hurting so very much. He tries to ignore the little voice telling him that he is deceiving himself; that her three _year_ absence last time round wasn't enough time for him. Instead, he drags the first file from the pile in his in-tray, and begins to read.

- 0 -

_Same day, mid-morning  
Heathrow Airport_

Ruth sits in the departure lounge, a novel open in her lap, but she is not reading. She is absentmindedly watching a mother trying to control her young son, the boy just a little younger than Nico. When the woman catches her eye, she smiles sympathetically, her mind for a moment lost in sunny Cyprus. But then the woman's husband sits down next to her, slightly older and balding, and the illusion is shattered. She turns her eyes back to her novel, but her thoughts continue to wander, and with the best will in the world she cannot prevent them from finding their way to Thames House, and a glass-walled office on the Grid, and the man inside that office.

When the JIC had requested that she be seconded to MI6 for the duration of the Middle East peace talks, Harry left the decision to her. If she accepted, it would mean going to Tel Aviv for three weeks to help with translation of source and news reports. At first she was tempted to decline, because she knows that she is needed on the Grid, and because she is worried about Harry, still. He is not himself, and hasn't been since Ros' funeral and that awful conversation between them. Ruth has seen the toll it takes on him each time he has had to make a difficult decision since, and she wants to be there, to support and guide him until he finds his strength again.

But she also knows that she is a large part of the problem. Probably not the biggest part, because with Harry that will always belong to his work and its impact on him, but a significant part nonetheless. She never meant to hurt him, but she knows now that she has, more deeply than she would like to admit. Ruth isn't sure anymore what she thought their relationship would be like after she refused his marriage proposal. She never thought it would be like this; this awkward, stilted interaction they have now. She knows, now, that perhaps she rather naively expected that nothing would change, that Harry would accept it and move on and pretend those few minutes never happened between them, and they would still maintain the emotional intimacy that's been growing between them since her return. The fact that he hasn't been able to do that tells her more about the depth of his feelings for her, than perhaps he ever could in words. So she accepted the secondment, hoping that the few weeks apart would give them both a chance to gain some clarity on the situation.

Her rumination is interrupted by the PA system.  
"_Flight El Al 318 to Tel Aviv is now boarding through Gate 15_."  
Mechanically, Ruth gathers her stuff and moves towards the gate. As she walks, she reflects on how much she misses the little things that used to happen between them. They used to always find time to talk, about everything and anything. She remembers witty text messages going back and forth on topics ranging from the election to their various pets, and suddenly she misses him very much. Taking out her mobile, she begins to type a text message until, halfway through, she remembers his request that they keep their interactions to work. Slowly deleting her simple message, she refuses to acknowledge the lump that lodges in her throat.

- 0 -

_Same day  
Flight LY 318_

Ruth stares out of the window as the plane begins to taxi towards the runway. She was supposed to have the aisle seat, but rather meekly gave it up after the old Jewish lady seated next to her shamelessly played the age card to manipulate her. She is angry with herself for falling for it. One of the air hostesses bustles quickly down the aisle, followed by a serious-eyed young man, disappearing through the curtain towards the front of the plane. Ruth turns her head back to the window, resolutely ignoring any attempts from the woman next to her to start a conversation. Plane journeys is the one place where she refuses to be drawn into banal conversations, even if that means being rude, because there is simply nowhere to escape to.

She frowns as they taxi past the first runway, and then past the aircraft maintenance hangars to the runway furthest north from the terminal. Ruth knows, from attending numerous airport security briefings with Harry, that that runway is mostly used for cargo aircraft. Craning her neck, she glances around, but everything seems in order. The air hostess comes back down the aisle, catching Ruth's eye briefly. She has shoulder-length dark hair, and Ruth has the feeling she's seen her somewhere before. As she watches, the air hostess is joined by two more young men, this time disappearing through the back curtain. Glancing out the window again, Ruth sees that they are taxiing towards the most remote part of the airport, and she realises with a terrible certainty that something is wrong.

As casually as possible, she fishes her mobile out of the seat pocket in front of her. Obscuring her actions with the novel in her lap, she switches it on, and types out a message, suddenly extremely grateful that Harry's was the last number she accessed.

- 0 -

_Same day  
Grid, Briefing room_

Lucas is in the middle of his briefing when Harry's mobile beeps discreetly. He motions to Lucas to carry on as he retrieves it from his pocket and glances at the ID on the screen. His heart soars for a moment when he sees her name, thinking she may have sent a brief goodbye message, before he manages to remind himself of their reality and tamp it down. Curious, he opens the message, and feels the earth tilt as he reads the words:

**hijacked keep line open  
**  
_tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

_Monday 23 August  
The Grid, Meeting Room_

Harry stops breathing for a moment, and all sound in the room is sucked from it. All he can hear is his own heart hammering in his ears. He squeezes his eyes shut, but when he opens them again the message is still the same. He lowers the phone, gently laying it on the table with the utmost care. The movement draws Beth's attention, and one look at Harry makes her grab Lucas' arm to shut him up. All eyes turn to Harry. He is grasping the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles have turned white.  
"Harry?" Beth ventures carefully.  
He turns his head to her, his movements jerky. It takes him a few attempts to find his voice.  
"Ruth's plane has been hijacked."

Ruth scans the cabin again as they near the end of the farthest runway, whilst frantically going through the items in her hand luggage in her mind to make sure there is nothing that will identify her as a member of the Security Services. She hopes to God Harry is not in some meeting with his phone turned off, as she has suddenly become very afraid, but the thought that he is at the other end of the line gives her strength. _Please,_ she thinks, _Harry will know what to do…_

Harry's statement is met with stunned silence. They watch as he picks up the phone and types a short message. Everyone sees the tremor in his hands.

When Ruth glances at her mobile again, she has a message, a glorious message from Harry:

**I'm here. Do not be afraid**.

She calls his number, and watches the call connect. Her almost-sob of relief is drowned out by a sudden burst of machine-gun fire as the two men burst through the curtain at the back, firing in the air and shouting.  
"This is a hijacking! Don't move! Stay in your seats!"

On the Grid, they can clearly hear the gunfire, the shouting and the bedlam that follows through the phone. Harry has turned very pale, and has to violently fight the urge to pick up the phone and yell Ruth's name into it. _Please let her be all right,_ he begs silently instead, to whom or what he isn't quite sure. _Please_…

Ruth grabs the woman next to her and shoves her down as soon as the shooting starts, at the same time deftly wedging the mobile into the webbing below the seat. At least that will allow Harry and the team to hear what's happening as long as the battery lasts. After about thirty seconds, the shooting stops and an eerie calm descends, the silence only disturbed by the sound of crying. Ruth carefully lifts her head and peers over the seat in front of her. There are now four young men spread along the aisle, each holding an AK-47. Towards the front she notices the air hostess that helped the men in discussion with a slightly older man. Ruth guesses his age as mid-thirties. His appearance marks him down as of Arab descent, but when he turns to the passengers and begins to address them, his accent is very British.

"Ladies and gentlemen, pay attention please. My friends and I have taken over this plane. Do not think of being heroes, it will only get you killed. We are wiring the whole plane with explosives, and should you try to rush us, I will detonate it." He waves a trigger device in the air.  
"I am willing to die in the cause of Allah, as are all my brothers, so do not test us on this."  
As he's speaking two of the men are moving through the cabin, attaching explosives at intervals.  
"No-one is allowed to get out of their seat without permission. No-one is allowed to talk. If you do so, you will be punished." He turns away, but changes his mind and addresses the terrified passengers once again.  
"You should be proud. Even though many of you are most undeserving of this honour, you are about to play a glorious role in the fight for a free Palestine." With that, he ducks through the curtain towards the cockpit.

The old woman next to Ruth begins to keen softly. Instinctively Ruth puts an arm around her.  
"Just try to stay calm. It'll be all right."

At the sound of Ruth's voice, relief floods through the meeting room. Harry has never been so moved in his life to hear the voice of another human being. He briefly covers his eyes with his hand and takes a few deep breaths, all too aware that anyone looking into his eyes at that moment would plainly see his love for Ruth displayed there. He allows himself only those few seconds, before letting instinct and years of experience take over.

Whilst the others are still digesting the developments, Harry is suddenly on his feet, the meeting room phone pressed to his ear.  
"This is Harry Pearce. Invoke Protocol 10 immediately. We have a hijacking situation at Heathrow."  
As he waits for a response, he looks at Tariq.  
"Reroute Ruth's call to that laptop you showed me the other day, the one that records and transcribes conversations." As Tariq jumps to his feet and almost sprints from the room, Harry grasps his arm as he passes him.  
"Gather everything you'll need. You're coming with me in five minutes."  
His attention turns to the phone again.  
"Good. I want a helicopter here _now_… Yes. I'll be on the roof in five minutes."  
"Harry!" Beth beckons him over to the mobile urgently.  
"Ruth's talking."

Ruth has taken a few minutes to calm herself, and to clarify and prioritise what she knows. In her mind's eye she can see every step Harry and the team will take in the next few minutes, and she knows that the more information they have, the more effective those steps will be. Turning to the woman next to her, she starts talking as if she's trying to calm the old lady down.  
"Don't worry, I'm sure they won't hurt us. There are seven of them; six men and one woman. One in cockpit, six in cabin with passengers armed with AK-47s. One air hostess helping them; Arab man with British accent mid-thirties the leader."  
The old woman next to her looks at her quizzically, then demands loudly, "What are you mumbling about?!"

Her outburst draws the attention of one of their captors, who moves over to them. Ruth grabs the old woman's arm and squeezes hard, willing her to keep her mouth shut long enough for Ruth to get the information out.  
"I recognise the air hostess from somewhere. If they planned on flying to another destination, they wouldn't have shot the plane full of holes-"  
The young captor looms over them suddenly, then swings the butt of his gun into Ruth's face, hard.  
"Shut up, bitch!"

Her agonised cry cuts through the meeting room. Harry takes a step towards the phone, his hands balled into fists by his side, then grabs the nearest chair and hurls it against the wall. Beth lays a restraining hand on his arm, but he shakes it off, rounding on her. The look on his face makes her take a step back, as she sees in that split-second the darkest part of Harry Pearce, and she knows for certain that he will literally kill that man if he should get his hands on him. She can hear Ruth's moans of pain in the background as she stands rooted to the spot, pinned there by Harry's murderous eyes. In that moment, so many things become suddenly clear to her about Harry's feelings for Ruth.

The spell is broken by Tariq bursting back into the room, grabbing Harry's mobile off the table, and attaching it to the laptop he's brought with him. When he looks up, he's just in time to see Harry's retreating back disappearing through the door. He gathers up the equipment hastily and scurries after his boss, leaving a very shaken Beth still standing in the room.

Ruth cannot remember ever feeling such intense pain. It reverberates around her skull – a sharp, shooting pain that makes tears flow down her cheeks, mingling with blood from her nose and split lip. She is powerless to stop them, in the same way that she is unable to muffle her agonised moans. Dimly, she is aware that the old woman's keening is rising in volume and becoming full-pitched wailing, and the sound ratchets up the pain in her head another notch. She tries to focus on something else, something positive, and Harry's image fills her mind, unbidden. Ruth wonders, rather absurdly, whether he'll be disappointed in her for breaking a cardinal rule. One is not supposed to focus attention on oneself in a hostage situation, she remembers from her course. But she could see no other way of getting the information across, and needs must, as Harry is so fond of saying.

_Harry_…

Stripped of all her defences, facing an uncertain future, Ruth is surprised by the strength of her feelings for him. She realises, with a pang, that should she die here in this plane, he will be the last person she will think of; that her mind will seek comfort in her memories of him. And she knows that her biggest regret will be that Harry will never know how deeply she loves him.

When the pain finally subsides enough for her to become aware of her surroundings again, she realises that the Arab looking leader is standing in the aisle next to them. He waits patiently until she manages to focus on his face before speaking.  
"The two of you disobeyed my instructions. I was very clear that there was to be no talking. For that you must be punished."  
He moves his right arm slightly, and for the first time Ruth becomes aware that he is holding something in his hand. For a moment her brain refuses to compute what it is seeing, refuses to accept the horror of it. But when he lifts it up and holds it at chest level, the full implications sink in with terrifying clarity.  
A suicide vest.  
"One of you will wear this, and deliver our message to the world. The question is: which one?"

_tbc_


	3. Chapter 3

_Monday 23 August  
Heathrow Airport_

As Ruth stares at the suicide vest, numbly registering the explosives, the wires, the old woman next to her begins to wail at full volume. She rocks back and forth, and Ruth can discern a few Yiddish words here and there; realises the woman is beseeching her God to step in. This, apparently, does not amuse the Leader, and he lifts a hand to slap the old woman across the face.  
"Please!" Ruth leans across her, shielding her from him. She wraps her arms around the old woman, shushing her, avoiding eye contact with the Leader. He regards her coldly, calculatingly, but before he can speak again, one of his minions calls to him.  
"The Tower wants to speak to the person in charge."  
He stands for a moment longer, watching the women huddled together, one already covered in blood.  
"I will be back shortly to make my decision. I suggest you make your peace with your God."

Up in the helicopter Tariq taps Harry on the shoulder, turning the laptop toward him so that he can read the latest exchanges picked up from Ruth's mobile. Cold fear grips his heart upon reading the exchange. What on earth could the man be talking about?  
He leans forward to speak to the pilot. "Can't this bloody crate go any faster?!"  
The pilot glances at him, holds up two fingers. "ETA two minutes, Sir Harry."  
Harry nods miserably, and sits back, desperately trying to clamp down on all the horror scenarios his brain is conjuring up. It's the longest two minutes of his life.

- 0 -

_Heathrow Crisis Centre_

Controlled chaos reigns as Harry strides in, Tariq hot on his heels. He stands for a moment, picking out the Head of Security for Heathrow and addressing him directly.  
"Update please."  
The man looks around, a look of relief crossing his face that the heavy guns have arrived.  
"Sir Harry. You've been designated Gold Commander. Thus far we have only been able to talk to the pilot, who is under duress and not allowed to say anything. All he could tell us was that the plane has been hijacked, and is rigged with explosives. If anyone tries to approach it, they will blow it up."  
Harry nods. "Our intelligence confirms that. I take it you have shut down all other operations at the airport?"  
"Yes. All flights are being redirected to other airports. We have evacuated all personnel in the vicinity of the plane."  
His eyes turn to the large window overlooking the runways, focussing on the solitary plane visible in the farthest corner of the airport. Harry moves towards the window, and picks up a pair of binoculars lying on the table. He brings the plane into focus, scanning up and down its length, paying particular attention to the windows.  
_Where is Ruth sitting?_  
His grip tightens on the binoculars until it is almost painful.  
_Focus_, he tells himself.

When he turns back to the room, he finds all eyes on him, expectantly. Waiting for him to give direction, to give assurance. He squares his shoulders.  
"Okay. Let's inform the following people, and get representatives here: the HS, the JIC, Six, Special Forces." He waits until someone scurries to a phone.  
"Let's keep trying to make contact, to get some form of dialogue going. Who's the hostage negotiator?"  
A man raises his hand, moves to another phone.  
Harry looks at him. "We only want to know if anyone is hurt at this stage – we heard shots and are concerned. Yes?" The man nods.  
"Tariq." Harry beckons him over to a table standing slightly apart from the others.  
"Set up your stuff here." He bends close to Tariq's ear. "Not a word about Ruth being on the plane. I want that kept quiet for as long as possible."  
Tariq nods, asks no questions.  
"Tell the local Mossad Head of Station that I desire the pleasure of his company. And get Lucas, Beth and Dimitri over here as soon as possible."  
Harry stands for a moment, thinking. "Find out if the Chief Israeli negotiator, Levi Cohen, is still in London. If he is, ask him to come as well. The timing on this is just too bloody convenient not to be linked to the upcoming peace talks."  
Tariq watches as Harry moves back to the window, and stands staring at the plane, his shoulders tense.

- 0 –

Ruth is leaning her head back, trying to stem the blood streaming from her nose and lip, when she feels a small hand on her arm. She opens her eyes to see the old woman offering her a handful of tissues. Her face is blotchy from all the crying, but Ruth is surprised to see a new sereneness in her eyes. Not being devout herself, she wonders at the calmness praying seems to have brought over the other woman, who just then speaks softly.  
"Esther," she says, introducing herself rather succinctly.  
"Ruth." It comes out more like 'Wuth' from behind the wad of tissues. The two women smile at each other wanly.  
"Thank you for protecting me just now," Esther says.  
Ruth nods, takes the small hand in hers.  
"I know that you're scared. I'm scared too. Very scared. But I need you to stay calm, all right? Men like these… they get off on our fear."

Esther sighs, and tears gather in her eyes.  
"My fear is not for myself, Ruth. I have children, grandchildren. I do not wish for them the heavy burden of grief and recrimination that comes with losing a loved one to such a violent end."  
Ruth stares at her, speechless.  
Esther sighs again. "I lost my husband in a bomb blast in Tel Aviv twelve years ago. I know only too well the pain that comes with it. It is so hard not to hate the world, and in the end yourself, after a thing like that."  
She notices that there are tears in Ruth's eyes as well.  
"I think maybe you understand that kind of pain too," she says gently. "You lost someone?"  
"Yes." Ruth's voice is almost a whisper. Esther nods.  
"Do you have children, other loved ones?"  
Ruth shakes her head. "No, there's no-one."  
But almost as soon as the words leave her mouth, she knows it's not true. She sees Harry, standing forlornly on the dock as she sails away on the barge, and she sees how his heart breaks when she tells him that she cannot marry him.

She is loved.

No-one is paying attention to Harry as he sits at the table, reading the transcript on the computer. No-one sees the hurt flicker across his face as he reads Ruth's final words.

- 0 -

_Heathrow Crisis Centre  
Meeting of principals_

Harry surveys the people around the table.  
The Home Secretary, who came in person rather than sending someone from his office. He rises a little in Harry's estimation for that.  
Richard Dolby, Chairman of the JIC.  
Mary Whitaker from MI6, overseeing Middle Eastern Affairs.  
Barry Creswell, Head of Operations for CO19.  
Aaron Bloom, Mossad Head of Station in London.  
And his old friend Levi Cohen, Chief Israeli negotiator for the Middle East peace talks.

"Right, let's get started. I'd say time is of the essence here. The facts as we know them at present are thus." Harry proceeds to give a concise summary of the situation. He is careful not to impart any information learnt from Ruth that could not have been gleaned in another way. He is not quite certain why he is so reluctant to divulge her presence. It is more than personal interest, though; something is niggling away in the back of his mind about this situation, but he can't put his finger on it. And the person with the ability to figure this out faster than anyone else is trapped on that plane. The irony is not lost on him.

When he finishes, silence reigns as those assembled digest the information. Mary Whitaker is the first to speak.  
"They haven't made any demands yet?"  
"No." Harry's eyes turn from her to Levi. "But it can't be coincidence that they are doing this on the eve of the next round of peace talks. That's why I asked Levi to join us."  
Levi nods at the others.  
"Agreed. Since they hijacked an Israeli flight, with mostly Israeli passengers on board, best guess is that this is an attempt to put pressure on Israel to be more open to compromise at the talks."  
"Hmm. So perhaps some group linked with the Free Palestine cause?" Harry adds casually. Heads nod in agreement.

The Mossad man chooses this moment to make his play.  
"Sir Harry. As has been said, this is about an Israeli plane with Israeli passengers, and the demands are likely to have a direct impact on the interests of Israel. As such, I believe you should give over control of this operation to Mossad and Israeli Special Forces."  
Those around the table stare at him in stunned surprise. Harry is first to recover the power of speech.  
"Absolutely not!"  
The HS, though, senses an opportunity to make this someone else's problem.  
"Now Harry, let's consider Mr. Bloom's request for a moment-"  
Harry rounds on him.  
"No, let's not, Home Secretary. Let's not forget the fifty two British passengers on that plane. Let's not forget that that plane is standing on British soil. Let's not sell our sovereignty so cheaply, shall we? Let me tell you what Mossad will do if you give over control to them: they will forego all attempts at a peaceful solution, storm that plane at the first opportunity, and cause a bloodbath!" He is on his feet by now, staring down the HS.  
The HS looks around the table, then laughs a little, trying to defuse the situation.  
"Surely that's an exaggeration?" He looks to Bloom, who studiously avoids eye contact, instead studying his fingernails intently.

Harry notices the reaction, and knows that he is correct in his assumption. He fights down the panic at the thought of Ruth at the mercy of Mossad. "Perhaps Aaron can rather explain to us how terrorists apparently armed to the teeth could have gotten weapons and explosives through El Al's very stringent security measures."  
Everyone looks at the Mossad man. Harry waits until he meets his eyes again before continuing. "They must have had inside help, is that not so, Aaron? You'd be better served to look through the El Al personnel on that plane and finding the bad apple, and leave the running of this operation to us."  
Levi has been watching Harry very closely throughout this whole exchange. He clears his throat. "Harry is correct, Aaron. MI5 should retain control of this operation. Israel has no right to infringe on the sovereignty of Britain. Please do as he asks, and find us the sympathiser among the personnel."  
Bloom opens his mouth to object, but thinks better of it. He nods wordlessly.

As they all file out of the meeting room, Harry nods at Levi. "Thank you, Levi."  
"You're welcome, old friend." He looks Harry over once again, noting the tension running through him. "Harry, might we speak in private?"  
Harry nods, and wordlessly leads him along the corridor to a small balcony. When they step outside it is eerily quiet; no scream of jet engines landing or taking off. They stand next to each other, both looking out at the lone plane sitting on the tarmac. Levi sighs, and turns to Harry.  
"You have someone on that plane, don't you?"

_tbc_


	4. Chapter 4

_Monday 23 November  
Heathrow Airport_

Harry stares at Levi.  
_How did he work that out so quickly?_  
He plays for time.  
"What makes you say that?"  
Levi smiles, looks back to the plane.  
"Your guesses over what this is about, and how it was done, are a little too specific. You know more than you're saying."  
After mulling this over, Harry knows there is nothing to be gained from denying it, and decides to be honest with his friend.  
"My senior analyst is on that flight. Quite by accident. We had no forewarning that anything was in the offing – ironically she was on her way to assist with the peace talks."

At the use of the word 'she' Levi turns his head, studies the man next to him. When Harry meets his eyes, he reads empathy in the other man's expression.  
"I think she is perhaps more than an analyst to you?" Levi asks gently.  
Harry, taken aback, wonders bleakly whether his love for Ruth is as obvious to everyone else as it apparently is to Levi.  
"You know me too well," he replies with a resigned smile, looking down at his hands on the railing before continuing.  
"But, she doesn't share my feelings, Levi. She wants only a professional relationship with me, so if you're trying to imply that my judgement is impaired by the fact that I'm sleeping with her…"  
Levi laughs, a harsh, bitter laugh.  
"Old friend, you and I both know that no reciprocation is needed for a man's judgement to be impaired by love."  
The two men stand silently for a moment, thinking about the shared pain of rejection.  
"…No," Harry finally sighs. "How is Ana?"  
The other man shrugs.  
"The same. My daughter still hates me for choosing the country over her." He turns to Harry.  
"I do not wish for your analyst to hate you for the same reason, Harry. But sometimes… events leave us no choice. I will do all I can to help you save her, but I will not allow you to compromise the peace talks or the outcome of this operation for one life."

Before Harry can reply, Tariq bursts through the door.  
"Harry, the leader of the group wants to speak to us."

- 0 -

A tense silence permeates the Crisis Centre as everyone waits for the comms to come to life. Harry looks over at Tariq, murmurs softly:  
"Voice recognition as soon as you have enough to work with."  
"I'm on it." The young techie checks the recording equipment for the umpteenth time.  
A loud crackle breaks the silence, and then the voice of the Leader is heard:  
"Listen carefully. I want a television crew - let's make it the BBC – to approach the plane in an hour's time. There must be only two people, a reporter and a cameraman. I will deliver my message to them, and I want it to be broadcast live. If anyone else approaches, I will blow up this plane. There will be no further communication until then, and no negotiation. One hour."  
The connection goes dead.

"Tariq?" Harry raises an eyebrow at him.  
"The programme's running, it may take a while."  
Stifling the urge to let his impatience show, Harry instead nods to the rest of the team. They gather round.  
"I want one of you as part of the BBC crew."  
"They may know the BBC reporters. We'll have to use an actual one," Lucas logically points out.  
"Fine. I saw Sally Williams among the gaggle of reporters earlier, get her over here. Lucas, you'll be cameraman. You know the drill – get as much detail as possible on tape."  
Harry turns again to Tariq.  
"You get a way to restrict the broadcast of that feed, so that they can see it as live on the plane, but that no-one else can pick it up."  
Dimitri glances at Beth, then back to Harry.  
"What about us?"  
"You two find me a way to neutralise the terrorists without blowing everyone on that plane to smithereens. Lucas will help you until it's time for the broadcast. Everyone clear?"  
The team members nod, and disperse to their allotted tasks.

"Beth." Harry's voice calls her back.  
"I also want you to keep an eye on the Mossad people. Make sure they're not planning something the rest of us are unaware of."  
She nods and turns away when, unbidden, an image of Harry's face when Ruth was hurt enters her mind. She turns back to him.  
"We'll get her back safely," she promises. "We'll get them all back."  
Harry looks at her for a long time, swallows, nods, and walks away.

- 0 -

_40 minutes later_

Ruth and Esther are sitting quietly, each lost in their own thoughts, when the Leader strides down the aisle to them. He has the suicide vest in his hand. Taking the older woman's hand, Ruth squeezes it tightly, trying to shore her up. Or perhaps trying to shore herself up. They share a terrified look, before Ruth sees Esther physically steeling herself and turning calm eyes to the approaching figure. He comes to a stop next to them.

"I have decided." He draws out the moment, perversely delighting in their terror. Looking between them with slow deliberation, his eyes finally settle on Esther.  
"It will be more fitting for a Jew to deliver my message. I want your despicable government to see one of their own on the altar."

"Harry!" Tariq beckons him over to read the latest transcripts.  
Harry's heart sinks as he reads them. He feels a moment of elation that the Leader has obviously chosen the other woman, before he is overcome with shame at the selfish reaction.

Ruth closes her eyes, and feels a tremor run through Esther's hand. And yet the older woman does not make a sound. She feels tears well up in her eyes, feels boundless admiration for the courage Esther is displaying. When she looks up, she notices that the air hostess is standing next to the Leader. Their eyes meet for a moment, and Ruth can swear she sees a fleeting glimpse of sympathy in the other woman's face, before it is gone. Then the air hostess turns to speak to the Leader, and the sound of her voice is the final jog Ruth's memory needs. She knows this woman. And she finally sees the full picture.

As Harry and Tariq watch, the transcription programme continues after a short quiet spell.  
FEMALE VOICE 3: _You have to be careful when you go out there to deliver your message. I'm sure by now Mossad has snipers in place, and they'll take you out at the first opportunity._  
Harry frowns at Tariq. "Who the hell is that?"  
The young man shrugs. "Maybe another passenger. But why would she help the terrorists? Or…"  
Harry completes the sentence for him. "The air hostess Ruth said was helping them. The one she recognised from somewhere." He stares at the screen, lost in thought. Makes a decision.  
"Tariq. I want you to get hold of the list of El Al personnel on that plane. I don't care how many laws you break in getting it. If Ruth recognises her, she must be in our systems somewhere. Cross-check if you can find any matches."

The Leader turns to the air hostess.  
"Don't worry. That's why I'm sending the Jewish woman out there."  
A voice interrupts.  
"No. Take me."

Harry is about to turn away when the transcription begins again. He glances at it, freezes, looks at Tariq in consternation, then looks at the screen again. It still reads the same.  
RUTH: _No. Take me._  
"Oh, God, no…"  
Tariq has never heard his boss sound quite as anguished before.

The Leader stares at Ruth.  
"Now why would I do that?"  
She holds his look.  
"Because we're in England. It's going to be British snipers out there, and British people making the decisions. You'll get more cooperation if you remind them that there are a lot of British citizens on this plane."  
He looks from her to Esther and back. She can see his desire for vengeance warring with his larger goals, so she continues.  
"You know I'm right. Also, perhaps they will be better persuaded by evidence of your willingness to use violence when needed." She gestures to her damaged, bloodied face.  
He makes his decision.  
"Fine. Get up."  
He turns away dismissively.  
"Bring her," he commands the air hostess before walking away.

When Ruth moves past Esther, the older woman grabs her hand with both of her own.  
"Why Ruth, why did you do it?"  
Ruth gives her a sad smile.  
"Because you have children, grandchildren… And there's a man I need to give a message to."

- 0 -

_Heathrow Crisis Centre  
Meeting room_

Lucas is briefing Sally Williams on what they want her to do, whilst Harry is pacing up and down restlessly. Even though he is quite pale, he is sweating, fidgety, and more on edge than Lucas has ever seen him. He finishes his briefing, and asks Sally to wait for him outside. As he fiddles with the camera, familiarising himself with it, he becomes aware that Harry has stopped pacing, and has slumped against the wall, staring at his shoes forlornly. There is nothing he can say that will make it better, so he keeps quiet. It is Harry that breaks the silence.  
"Lucas."  
He looks at his boss. Harry searches for the right words.  
"Tell her I…" He trails off, starts again. "Just… reassure her as best you can. Please?"  
Lucas nods wordlessly, and briefly lays his hand on Harry's shoulder as he passes him.

Ruth stands, numb and scared beyond belief, as they put the suicide vest on her. She reminds herself why she is doing this: that it is the only way she can get the information she has to Harry.  
_Oh God, Harry_…  
She cannot bear the thought that her blowing up may be the last image he'll ever see of her.

When they are done, the Leader thrusts a piece of paper into her hands.  
"You will open the door, and stand in it. Then you will read that message into the camera. You will not add anything, and you will not leave anything out. Is that clear?"  
She nods. He continues.  
"I will be standing right next to you, out of sight. If you try anything, I will shove you out the door, and then blow you up. With this." He holds up a remote detonator.  
Ruth swallows down her panic.  
"I understand. I won't try anything."  
"Good. You do as I say, and I may let you live at the end of it."  
The implication that he just as well may not, is crystal clear.

He pushes her to the door, and takes up position to the side of it. She turns the handle, opens it, and steps into the opening. She looks up to see Sally Williams and a cameraman on a raised platform in front of her. The cameraman lowers his camera for a moment and smiles reassuringly at her. Her heart leaps.  
_Lucas._  
It gives her the courage to do what she must do. She begins to speak.

_tbc_


	5. Chapter 5

_Monday 23 August  
Heathrow Airport_

"Oh, shit…"  
Beth voices the thoughts of everyone in the room. They all stare in horror at the screen, where the image of Ruth standing in the door of the plane is sharply in focus. The one side of her face is badly swollen and covered in blood. And she is wearing a suicide vest, laden with explosives. Beth risks a glance at Harry. He is deathly pale, breathing hard, the muscles in his jaw bunched viciously as he thrusts his balled fists into his pockets. It is taking every ounce of self-control he possesses not to hurl something, _anything_, across the room in blind fury.

Ruth's voice cuts through the tense silence.  
"I have been instructed to read the following."  
There is a slight waver in her tone, giving away her fear and stress. It breaks Harry's heart, and he feels a cold rage settle deep inside the pit of his stomach, focussing his concentration.  
_She wants to tell us something. How could she do it? Think_…  
Without taking his eyes off Ruth, he instructs his team softly: "She'll be trying to give us a message. Look and listen for anything out of the ordinary – movements, code-words…"

Ruth takes a deep breath, and lowers her eyes to the page. It is trembling slightly in her hands.  
_Now. Please don't miss it_, she thinks, as she begins to read.  
"We demand the release of our brothers from the yoke of Jewish oppression…"  
It's Dimitri that spots it.  
"There!" He points excitedly, but quietly.  
"She's tapping Morse code with her finger."  
Beth grabs a piece of paper, voicing softly as she writes.  
"M-E-T-S-A-D-A-L-T-H… Then she just repeats it again." She looks at Harry.  
"Do you know what it means?"  
He doesn't respond, but his face is a mask of barely controlled rage. Reaching over to the comms, he flicks the switch to talk to Lucas. He has trouble keeping his voice even.  
"Tell her we have her message."  
When he looks back at Ruth's image, Beth notices a tear in the corner of his eye.

Once Ruth has finished reading, Lucas lowers the camera and nods at her.  
"We've got it. _All_ of it."  
He holds her gaze, trying to impart as much mental strength as he can through that look. Ruth takes a shaky breath, nods, and opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, she feels the hand of the Leader on her back. Terror floods her, and she grabs the sides of the door, steels herself against any attempt to shove her out and over the edge.

Lucas watches her eyes widen in abject fear, and he knows immediately that she is convinced she is about to die. He sees the hand on her back, sees her glance at the ground far below in horror. He rushes to the end of the platform, but she is out of reach; there is nothing he can do. As he opens his mouth to yell something at the hidden figure with his hand on her back, she is suddenly yanked back into the plane, out of sight.

He doubles over, rests his hands on his knees, breathing hard. His heart is beating at a rate he is certain is unhealthy, and he takes a few deep breaths, trying to get the adrenaline surging through his system under control. At that moment he is very thankful that this little episode was not broadcast back to the others; he thinks it may just have killed Harry.

- 0 -

As soon as the broadcast ends, bedlam erupts in the Crisis Centre. Dolby is on his feet first, waving an accusatory finger in Harry's face.  
"That was Ruth Evershed! You had an officer on that plane, and you failed to inform us! This is totally unacceptable. You cannot remain in control of this operation as long as that woman is on the plane!"  
Something inside Harry gives way; the first large crack appears in his wall of self-control.  
"_That woman_?! Get your finger out of my face, or I will fucking detach it from the rest of your odious body with my bare hands."

The whole room is shocked into silence. Harry Pearce so rarely swears, or raises his voice, that it immediately gets the attention of all present. The HS steps between the two men.  
"Now, gentlemen, let's not lose focus of what's really important here – defusing this crisis. Harry, I'm afraid I have to agree with Richard on this one. I think it's time to give control over to Mossad."  
Harry takes a long time to tear his eyes away from Dolby, and look at the HS. He regards him coldly, but slightly more in control than he was moments ago.  
"Let's continue this in the meeting room. I want all the principals present, as well as my team. I have some information to share with you."  
Without a backward glance, he stomps off, leaving them to follow in his wake.

Harry waits until everyone, including Lucas, is settled before continuing.  
"My officer-" Somehow he can't bring himself to utter her name before all these people.  
"My officer managed to establish an open phone line to us, which she used to depart some salient information. Tariq."  
He nods at the young man, who plays them a recording of the relevant parts. Harry watches them wince as Ruth's agonised cries echo around the room.  
"She also managed to send us a message during the reading of the demands."  
Once again he looks to Tariq, who zooms in on Ruth's hand, showing them the tapping of her finger. Harry's eyes are on Aaron Bloom when he continues.  
"It's Morse code – spelling out _Metsada_."

He sees the realisation spread through the room, with the exception of the HS, who looks befuddled.  
"'Metsada'? What does that mean?"  
Harry divides his accusatory gaze between Bloom and Levi Cohen. "Care to enlighten us, gentlemen?"  
There is a very dangerous edge to his voice. Levi meets his eyes squarely.  
"Metsada is the colloquial name for Mossad's Special Operations Division. Harry, I swear to God, I had no idea."  
He continues to hold Harry's deadly stare until he sees him nod and accept his denial. The HS looks between the two men.  
"I don't understand. Why would she send us that message?"  
"She recognised the air hostess from somewhere, she said. It was because she must have come across her on our database of Metsada operatives. It means, Home Secretary, that Mossad is behind the whole thing. They staged the hijacking, using this woman to incite a group of terrorists and then assist them in the execution of it," Harry explains without taking his eyes off Bloom.

The HS stares at Bloom, astonishment and disbelief written on his face.  
"Surely not. Whatever for?!" He looks at the JIC Chairman for an explanation, but Dolby stares at the table instead. It is Lucas who provides the answer.  
"To garner sympathy for Israel's cause in the UK and US before the talks start, and possibly allow them to get away with a more hard-line approach during the talks."  
Levi shakes his head sadly.  
"Is that it, Aaron? Is that how you plan to save your country; by perpetrating violence against its own citizens?"  
Bloom shakes his head.  
"Don't be absurd. We have nothing to do with this. Your officer is wrong." He gives Harry a challenging look, one that says: _Prove it, buddy_.  
"Harry." Tariq motions him over, shows him something on his screen.

Harry glares back at Bloom.  
"No? So the name 'Linda Meir' doesn't ring a bell? The same woman who is on the _real_ list of crew on that plane, instead of the altered one you fed us? She is the spitting image of a woman with the same name that completed her training with Metsada in 2002, I have to say."  
As he talks, Tariq displays the relevant information on the screen. The evidence leaves no room for denial, and the temperature in the room rises another notch.  
Aaron looks around the room belligerently.  
"Israel is being abandoned by its allies in its hour of need."  
He glares at the HS.  
"Your 'new' government is a joke. The alliance weakens you, and your pathetic, weak Prime Minister takes every opportunity to criticise Israel. We had to take action. Besides," he turns to Dolby, "if you had kept up your end of the bargain that Evershed bitch would not have been on that flight, and no-one would ever have known."

In the deafening silence that follows, Lucas puts it together a fraction of a second slower than Harry, but that fraction is all the older man needs. By the time Lucas reacts, Harry has tossed the table out of the way, grabbed Dolby from his chair and flung him against the wall. He hits him in the face with everything he has, his self-control totally obliterated. Something cracks in his hand, but he doesn't even notice. His mind is blank except for the thought to inflict as much damage as he possibly can. By the time Lucas reaches him and pulls him off Dolby, he has broken the other man's nose and jaw.

- 0 -

_15 minutes later_

The team is gathered around Tariq's console, casting furtive glances in Harry's direction, who is sitting at another table, watching the footage of Ruth again, brooding silently. Dimitri looks at Lucas.  
"So Dolby knew they were going to hijack the flight, and he knew Ruth was going to be on it? And he did nothing?"  
"Yep."  
"But why? What did he gain from having Ruth on that flight?"  
It is Beth who answers.  
"Because it would give him leverage over Harry – force him to relinquish control of the operation to Mossad."  
Lucas nods. "They never had any intention of negotiating. They want that plane to be blown up. It's the only way to shock the world enough to get them back on Israel's side. Dolby has always been a strong supporter of Israel."  
Dimitri shakes his head.  
"Bastard."  
"I think that was the point Harry was trying to make to him as well," Lucas observes dryly.

Dimitri looks back at Harry, watches him nurse his right hand, which is beginning to swell.  
"He can move bloody fast for an old geezer," he says with a slight smirk and a note of admiration in his voice.  
"What's happened to Dolby?"  
"Ambulance took him away. Apparently he has a broken nose and jaw, and a cracked cheekbone." Tariq doesn't sound at all sympathetic whilst describing the JIC Chairman's injuries, his mind already on something else.  
"That message that Ruth sent us – Metsada was only a part of it. What does the rest mean: L-T-H?"  
Lucas smiles slightly.  
"It's a message to Harry."  
Tariq looks at him blankly. Beth helps him out.  
"Love To Harry."  
They fall silent, looking at the lone figure slumped before the monitor, lost in his own world of pain, anger, fear and grief. As they watch, he suddenly gets up, walks over to the HS.  
"Can I have a word?"

They retreat to the meeting room. Harry sits at the table wearily, his eyes drawn to Dolby's blood splattered against the wall. He feels no remorse whatsoever, and that scares him a little.  
The HS sits down across from him.  
"What Dolby did is unforgivable, Harry. I'll make sure no charges are brought against you for this… episode." He gestures vaguely around the room.  
Harry shrugs, at this moment in time he really doesn't care one way or the other. He takes a deep breath, forces his next words out of his mouth.  
"I'm going to give over control of the operation to my Section Chief, Lucas North." He doesn't need to provide any reasons; they have been demonstrated more than adequately over the last hour.  
The HS looks at him sympathetically. He never expected to see this legendary man look so desperate, so lost.  
"I think that's a wise decision." He is silent for a moment. "And a courageous one."  
Harry looks away.  
"There was never any intention to end this peacefully. The only way we're going to end it is by taking that plane by force. I can't make that decision, Home Secretary. I can't… In all probability it'll sign Ruth's death warrant. She has that vest on; all it needs is the push of a button. We'll still be here by next week if I remain in charge. I'll tell Lucas."

When Harry enters the Crisis Centre, his team all look at him expectantly. They note the wounded look in his eyes. He studies them in turn, worried by their lack of experience, apart from Lucas. But he has no option. He has to entrust the life of the woman he loves to their care.  
"Lucas."  
His Section Chief comes over.  
"We need to take that plane by force, sooner rather than later."  
Lucas nods, waits for Harry to continue.  
Harry looks out of the window, towards the plane. He clears his throat.  
"I don't think it should be me calling the shots when that happens. I'm going to leave it in your capable hands. Do everything you can to get the people out of there alive." He can't disguise the hoarse note in his voice by the end. Before Lucas can respond, Harry has turned and walked out of the room.

- 0 -

He finds himself in the bathroom, without being really sure how he got there. His hand is throbbing painfully. He wrenches off his suit jacket, loosens his tie and the first button of his shirt. Trying to breathe, to lighten the weight pressing down on his chest. It doesn't help. He splashes some water onto his face, before lifting his head to look at himself in the mirror. Rivulets of water trickle down his cheeks. He backs up slowly, until his back connects with the opposite wall, then slides down until he is seated on the ground. Closing his eyes, he cradles his head in his hands. All he can think about is that he has betrayed Ruth; that by relinquishing control, he has signed her death warrant.  
"Oh dear God, forgive me, Ruth…"

_tbc_


	6. Chapter 6

_Monday 23 August  
Heathrow Airport_

Harry doesn't know how long he sits there, cradling his head, filled with self-loathing. Thinking about Ruth, betrayal, and love.  
L-T-H.  
So she does love him. The thought is a balm to his battered heart. He only wishes that it weren't under these circumstances that she told him. He can't understand why they cannot figure it out, why they cannot be together and find as much joy as they can out of their union in the midst of their wretched lives. All he wants, all he has wanted for years, is a chance to hold her, to love her in all the ways it is possible to do so, to try and make her happy. And now, it would seem, he has forfeited any chance to do so. _If she dies_, he thinks, he will never be able to forgive himself.

Unwilling to give up on her, on them, _ever_, he casts around in his mind, frantically searching for something to save her. A thought comes to him suddenly, unexpectedly. It is the smallest fraction of a chance, but it is all he has. It'll have to do.

- 0 -

Ruth is sweating under the suicide vest. Its weight hangs heavy on her shoulders, but she is too afraid to touch it and attempt to find a more comfortable position. After the little episode earlier, she feels drained and exhausted. She was so sure that she was going to die, and all she'd seen before her was Harry's sorrowful eyes – it's all she still sees every time she closes her own. They are keeping her at the front of the plane, near the open door, so at least she feels a cool breeze blow across her every now and then. She wonders how Esther is. And she wonders how Harry is, what he's doing. At least she managed to get her message through. Surely, that must be the key to unlock this whole thing, and somehow salvage a peaceful solution?

She looks over at the air hostess. She can't fathom, in any shape or form, being so committed to a cause that you would sacrifice a plane full of innocent civilians to achieve it. Her only consolation in all of this is that she at least got to tell Harry that she loves him. She promises herself, then and there, that if she manages to survive this ordeal, she won't let the chance to love him, be with him, pass her by again.

- 0 -

Lucas looks around the table. They have been strategising for half an hour, and have made little progress. Many ideas have been considered and then discarded as unworkable, including the use of stun gas or sleeping gas (too big an area to be effective fast enough to prevent detonation). It always comes back to the problem of preventing the detonation of the explosives. He sighs and rubs his temples.  
"Okay, let's start with the basics. How do we get CO19 to the plane without being spotted?"  
Everyone ponders this. Beth glances at her watch.  
"It will be dark soon."  
They all look at her to explain further.  
"The plane has been sitting out there for more than 12 hours now. People must have used the toilet. The septic tank will need draining."  
"How on earth do you know that?" Dimitri asks. Beth shrugs, smirks slightly.  
"I once went undercover as an air hostess."

Lucas thinks about this.  
"Can we hide the CO19 team in the tanker, get it in under the plane where it's not visible, and then drop them there?"  
The CO19 team leader nods.  
"Yeah, that'll work."

- 0 –

Harry finds Aaron Bloom on the little balcony, having a smoke break.  
"Mind if I join you?" He settles himself at the railing next to Bloom.  
It is clear from the man's expression that he minds very much, but he doesn't say anything, just eyes the rumpled Section D Head warily. Unconsciously, Harry flexes his stiffening hand, and the pain that shoots through it makes him wince. He turns to Bloom.  
"It occurs to me that you may have some way to contact your officer on that plane – call the whole thing off."  
They stare at each other, before Bloom shrugs, blows out a plume of smoke.  
"I don't."  
"I don't believe you."  
Bloom, now irritated, flicks his stub over the railing.  
"Come now, Harry. Do your officers take communication equipment with them when they are going deep undercover – equipment that will blow them sky-high if discovered?" He shakes his head at the idiocy of the notion.

Harry's face darkens at the unintended pun; he keeps looking at Bloom, barely blinking, not bothering to hide his repugnance for the other man.  
"No, you're right. But." He lets it hang for a moment, lets the tension build up in his companion.  
"I would certainly have a way to communicate with them without such equipment. Code words in a news broadcast, or on a radio programme, for instance."  
He observes Bloom's reaction closely, and picks up the tell-tale twitch of his mouth that convinces him he's right. Without turning, he calls out: "Levi, if you would."  
Levi steps onto the balcony, holding out a mobile to Bloom.  
"Our Prime Minister wishes to speak to you."

- 0 -

Tariq is explaining why they can't block the remote triggers' signals when it's in such close proximity to the explosives when the door opens. Harry steps in, followed by Bloom.  
"Mr Bloom has some information that will be of use to you."  
Bloom clears his throat. He seems diminished, somehow.  
"We can get a message to our operative on the nine o'clock news. Once she receives it, she will disarm the explosive devices, and expect a raid on the plane in one hour's time. You can go in without the fear that they will blow the plane, and you'll only have to worry about the firearms."  
It is as though a weight has been lifted from the room.  
Lucas gives Harry a smile before turning back to the table, and beginning the formulation of a concrete attack plan.

- 0 -

_21:15_

Ruth becomes aware of the air hostess leaning over her, and realises she must have been dozing. Then she notices the woman fiddling with the vest, and she is instantly awake. She tries to shy away, but the woman grabs her shoulder and pushes her down into the seat.  
"Shhh. I'm just making it more comfortable. I won't hurt you."  
When she moves away, Ruth looks down at the vest, and notices that a couple of wires have been disconnected. She frowns, and turns her head to watch the air hostess move down the aisle. She sees her bending over the passengers underneath each explosive device, and then reaching up to quickly fiddle with the device.

_21:30_

Harry watches through the binoculars as the tanker trundles over the tarmac, its headlights illuminating the huge wheels of the Boeing 777. It stops close to the wheels, at an angle that would prevent anyone glancing from the door of the plane to see the silent figures disembark on its blind-side. They begin to make their way into the underbelly of the plane through the wheel shafts. The tanker empties the plane's septic tank, then crawls back towards the terminal.  
Now all they can do is wait.

Lucas comes to stand next to Harry.  
"I'd rather be out there with them, than standing here calling the shots."  
Harry smiles a little, nods.  
"_'Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown'_…" he muses softly. "I'm exceedingly familiar with that feeling."  
Lucas watches him cradle his right hand, which is badly swollen by now.  
"Harry, you really should get that seen to."  
"I will." He meets Lucas' eyes. "When I go to the hospital with Ruth later."  
There is a desperate look in his eyes, which begs Lucas not to dash the hope he is hanging onto. So Lucas merely nods, and they stand side by side quietly, counting down every second. Trying not to think about the myriad things that can go wrong, and failing miserably.

_22:00_

It is time.

Lucas murmurs into the comms.  
"Alpha team in position?"  
The answer crackles through.  
"Alpha team check."  
"Bravo team?"  
"Bravo team check."  
Lucas takes a deep breath, looks at Harry. Receives a tense nod.  
"Charlie team, we are go."  
"Charlie team, check."  
From somewhere behind the terminal, the throbbing of helicopter blades grows louder. After a few seconds, the comms comes to life again.  
"Gold Commander, Charlie team in position."  
Lucas briefly closes his eyes, swallows. No turning around now.  
"Alpha, Bravo teams, we are go. On my mark: Three. Two. One. Mark."

For a second it seems as though nothing is happening. Then the flash of the first stun grenade can be seen through the windows of the plane.  
"Charlie team, go go go!"  
Four Chinooks swarm over the building, each with a blinding searchlight which it immediately trains on the plane, as snipers balanced in the doorways sight their weapons on any possible targets.  
Through the comms they can hear shouting, some shots, a short burst of what sounds like an AK-47. One of the hijackers appears in the door, training his weapon on the helicopters. They see him jerk and fall backwards, spraying bullets in an arc as he does so.  
Harry closes his eyes, tries to quell the panic. _She'll be all right._ Perhaps it will be true after all if he repeats it enough.  
And then, just as suddenly as it started, it is over. All that can be heard is the whumping of the helicopters.  
Finally, Dimitri's voice: "Gold Commander, the plane is secure. I repeat, the plane is secure. All six protagonists are down. We have some light injuries to a couple of passengers, and one serious gunshot wound to an SO."

A wave of relief sweeps through the Crisis Centre, and applause breaks out. But when Lucas looks at Harry, none of the tension has left his face. He gets back on the comms.  
"Alpha One, what is Gazelle's status?"  
Beth's voice answers.  
"This is Bravo One, I've got her. She's okay, she's alive."  
Lucas can't stop the grin from spreading across his face.  
"Get the ambulances over there, now!"  
When he turns to speak to Harry, the older man is no longer there.

- 0 -

Beth and Dimitri help Ruth down the plane's steps between them. When she reaches the bottom, she looks up to find Harry standing a few feet away from her. His face is naked, and she can read every emotion he is experiencing as clear as day.  
She reaches out a hand to him.  
"…Harry…"  
And then she is in his arms, being held tightly. Holding on even more tightly.  
"Don't let me go, Harry, please."  
He buries his face in her hair.  
"Never," he promises. "Never again, Ruth."

Dimitri turns to grin at Beth, and catches her wiping a tear from her eye.  
"Well well. Bad Beth Bailey has a heart," he teases.  
She glares at him.  
"Shut up."

Levi stands a little apart, watching Harry and Ruth. He sees Harry gaze at her with a most tender look, and hears her tell him three little words, sees his old friend's face light up before he lowers his head to softly kiss her tears away.  
They are an oasis of calm in the chaos swirling around them, entwined as closely as it is possible to be.  
Together.  
He smiles, nods to himself, and walks away.

- 0 -

_Saturday 28 August, Evening  
Harry's house_

They are nestled together on the sofa, watching the news. Or rather, Harry is watching the news. Ruth is simply watching him. She notices everything about him; the way he purses his lips when they're reporting something he doesn't like, how he curls his bare toes into the carpet when Scarlet licks them, how the muscles in his forearm move when he clenches his right hand around the cast. She reaches out in wonderment, tracing the muscles as they move.

It seems that, once she's started touching him, she simply can't stop. Harry, of course, doesn't seem to mind at all. When she lifts a finger to trace the shell of his ear, he makes a low, content humming sound in the back of his throat. She presses closer to him, and lays her head on his shoulder, her hand straying to his shirt-front and tracing his skin inside the open V of the collar. He turns his head, and she can feel his breath against her forehead. He waits until she looks up at him, and gives her a slow, sexy smile that lights up his eyes. Then he kisses her, deeply, thoroughly, and so very lovingly, until she can't remember anything but his name.

_Harry_

Always his, deep in her heart.

It has always been him.

And it always will be.

_Fin_


End file.
